My 7 year old goes to the Greatest School in the World. I mean the Greatest. I have never seen such an amazing community of teachers, families and students who truly care for one another. I am now faced with the decision to either 1.) Keep Aidan at North Shore or 2.) Transfer him to the school I just got hired at. Still working on the pros and cons. Here's what I have so far.
North Shore Pros:
Greatest School in the World
His best friend goes there
He will LOVE his second grade teacher
Will not scar him for life by changing schools (this happened to me in second grade)
Selfishly want to keep him there to stay in touch with friends and former co-workers
Secretly hope art teacher will quit so I can have her job, and wouldn't lose Aidan's spot (not likely)
Greatest School in the World
North Shore Cons:
Long drive - how to get him back and forth
Our breaks will not coincide
Not having him with me at school
Really tough class in general, kids wise
Edison Pros:
Same breaks
No transportation issues = serious convenience
Have him with me at school
Differentiated reading - the kid is a high flyer and honestly was not challenged AT ALL last year
Uniforms = no more clothing battles (a serious issue in our house...what is he, like a 15 year old girl?)
Snowflake Nordic right next door - ski dates with my son!
Spanish!
Edison Cons:
Scar him for life?
More behavior issues at Edison, tough on him? But he is in a naughty class already and holds his own
Doesn't know a soul there
So many unknowns: will I give up a great community? What if we don't like his teacher?
No Environmental ed.
Weigh in, people. I think I've made up my mind one way, and then it changes. I need your advice.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Overheard #3
Rowan, standing outside the bathroom:(Gasp!) Lookitdat! It's bee-yooo-tee-ful!!!
Me, walking to where he is: (thinking what? Something shiny? A butterfly? A picture?) What? What is beautiful?
Rowan: That! It's SO BEAUTIFUL!! (points at package of generic toilet paper.)
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I guess.
Me, walking to where he is: (thinking what? Something shiny? A butterfly? A picture?) What? What is beautiful?
Rowan: That! It's SO BEAUTIFUL!! (points at package of generic toilet paper.)
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I guess.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
SPD Blog!
I've been looking for something like this blog.
http://www.spdbloggernetwork.com/
I've only read a few posts, but I can relate to so many of them!
Hopefully contributing soon!
http://www.spdbloggernetwork.com/
I've only read a few posts, but I can relate to so many of them!
Hopefully contributing soon!
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
When One Door Closes...
...or reflections on the night before I leave a bunch of people and a place that I truly love.
Let my preface this by saying I've had my teaching license for 10 years. In those ten years, I have taught in seven schools in five districts. Laid off, re-hired, art on a cart, years of uncertainty. The Golden Year was my year as a long term sub at North Shore Community School, where, with the right support (finally) I realized my full potential as an art teacher. Right after being super close to just throwing in the towel. This last year, as a special ed. para at NSCS was my first year NOT teaching in some capacity. My friend Julie called it my "Detour For Rowan" year, which is pretty much it. Much of what I learned this year, I was able to use to help him. I was a better mom because of my job. Universe, I acknowledge that. Thanks.
Tuesday morning I accepted The Job I Have Been Looking For. It's at Duluth Edison Charter School, full time, elementary level, and in a school that is growing - no sign of layoffs or cut time in the future. Really though, what I need to tell is how I found out I was chosen for the job.
Monday, I was on a field trip to the Great Lakes Aquarium with 45 first graders. I knew the call was coming that day. Indeed, there was the message, waiting for me as we exited the Aquarium. The kids were at the park, soon to be headed for Dairy Queen, and I was encouraged by my colleagues (including Julie) to just go to the car and make my calls. The message left was the head of school, calling to "talk with" me about the position. I called back, no answer. Left a message, basically saying I was on a field trip but would do my best to answer the phone. Then I headed to DQ to meet the bus.
My little friend that I work with has high functioning autism, and the kid is a hoot. He was among the 45 kidlets. At DQ, well into ice cream cones, a couple of classmates put ketchup on their ice cream. This sent my little friend into a tizzy. He was gagging and freaking out, and eventually, threw up in his mouth. I took him to the bathroom to fix the problem and all was good again, except we just couldn't be inside with ice cream ketchup anymore.
We headed outside and sat at a table, admiring the signs in the area (one of my little friend's favorite things) when the phone rang and I realized it was Edison. I asked my little friend if he thought he could stay quiet while I took the call and he nodded seriously. He sat, little round cheeks, big brown eyes, hands folded watching me while I took the call. It was the job offer. I took in the information, and while doing so, noticed Julie looking at me out the window with a "What???" look. I gave her a thumbs up and mouthed the words "I got the job!" I didn't accept right away, but gave my email to receive more info and asked the usual questions. As I was still talking, Julie burst out the front doors sobbing. This caught my now calm little friend off guard and sent him into yet another tizzy. So here I am talking to my new boss, with an emotional friend trying to calm down an autistic kid in a tizzy. Autistic tizzies are hard. Anyway, I quickly wrapped up my call, and when I hung up, Julie threw her arms around me and said "Congratulations!" and my little friend, without missing a beat, continued, "...to the flag of the United States of America." Which almost made me not want to accept the job, for to give up such moments. Sigh. But I did.
But I do need to say, NSCS is something special. An amazing sense of community, so much support, so much love. I don't think it can ever be topped. I always wanted to teach in a school like that, and I wish my new job was there. And my one year as a teacher there helped me see all that I can be. And as far as this year goes, I liked being a para, I didn't love it. Teaching art, I feel so much passion for my job. The kids inspire me again and again. Sometimes you just know what you were born to do, and you gotta do it.
I will miss NSCS, and I know that several of the relationships I have forged will be there for good, even if the job isn't there. I went in, I felt the love, I spread the love. Mission Accomplished.
(Now who is going to help me make the decision about whether to keep Aidan there, or send him to the new school?)
Let my preface this by saying I've had my teaching license for 10 years. In those ten years, I have taught in seven schools in five districts. Laid off, re-hired, art on a cart, years of uncertainty. The Golden Year was my year as a long term sub at North Shore Community School, where, with the right support (finally) I realized my full potential as an art teacher. Right after being super close to just throwing in the towel. This last year, as a special ed. para at NSCS was my first year NOT teaching in some capacity. My friend Julie called it my "Detour For Rowan" year, which is pretty much it. Much of what I learned this year, I was able to use to help him. I was a better mom because of my job. Universe, I acknowledge that. Thanks.
Tuesday morning I accepted The Job I Have Been Looking For. It's at Duluth Edison Charter School, full time, elementary level, and in a school that is growing - no sign of layoffs or cut time in the future. Really though, what I need to tell is how I found out I was chosen for the job.
Monday, I was on a field trip to the Great Lakes Aquarium with 45 first graders. I knew the call was coming that day. Indeed, there was the message, waiting for me as we exited the Aquarium. The kids were at the park, soon to be headed for Dairy Queen, and I was encouraged by my colleagues (including Julie) to just go to the car and make my calls. The message left was the head of school, calling to "talk with" me about the position. I called back, no answer. Left a message, basically saying I was on a field trip but would do my best to answer the phone. Then I headed to DQ to meet the bus.
My little friend that I work with has high functioning autism, and the kid is a hoot. He was among the 45 kidlets. At DQ, well into ice cream cones, a couple of classmates put ketchup on their ice cream. This sent my little friend into a tizzy. He was gagging and freaking out, and eventually, threw up in his mouth. I took him to the bathroom to fix the problem and all was good again, except we just couldn't be inside with ice cream ketchup anymore.
We headed outside and sat at a table, admiring the signs in the area (one of my little friend's favorite things) when the phone rang and I realized it was Edison. I asked my little friend if he thought he could stay quiet while I took the call and he nodded seriously. He sat, little round cheeks, big brown eyes, hands folded watching me while I took the call. It was the job offer. I took in the information, and while doing so, noticed Julie looking at me out the window with a "What???" look. I gave her a thumbs up and mouthed the words "I got the job!" I didn't accept right away, but gave my email to receive more info and asked the usual questions. As I was still talking, Julie burst out the front doors sobbing. This caught my now calm little friend off guard and sent him into yet another tizzy. So here I am talking to my new boss, with an emotional friend trying to calm down an autistic kid in a tizzy. Autistic tizzies are hard. Anyway, I quickly wrapped up my call, and when I hung up, Julie threw her arms around me and said "Congratulations!" and my little friend, without missing a beat, continued, "...to the flag of the United States of America." Which almost made me not want to accept the job, for to give up such moments. Sigh. But I did.
But I do need to say, NSCS is something special. An amazing sense of community, so much support, so much love. I don't think it can ever be topped. I always wanted to teach in a school like that, and I wish my new job was there. And my one year as a teacher there helped me see all that I can be. And as far as this year goes, I liked being a para, I didn't love it. Teaching art, I feel so much passion for my job. The kids inspire me again and again. Sometimes you just know what you were born to do, and you gotta do it.
I will miss NSCS, and I know that several of the relationships I have forged will be there for good, even if the job isn't there. I went in, I felt the love, I spread the love. Mission Accomplished.
(Now who is going to help me make the decision about whether to keep Aidan there, or send him to the new school?)
Monday, May 30, 2011
Spring Fling
Man, what a slacker I've been on this blog thing. It seems the spring wind has come and taken all my motivation away.
Actually, there are two reasons why I haven't posted.
1. I always expect spring to be "easy." Every year I am wrong. Both Dan and I have had job interviews in the last 2 weeks, school craziness is wrapping up with all of its extra get togethers and whatnot, plus my toes are getting back into working at the Cafe. Where has all this time gone? (Oh, and I've been playing, as per previous post.)
2. I find my sense of humor and quick wit fires faster with adversity and stress, of which there is little around here. Really. We're busy, but not fried to the max like we were this winter. When life is "normal" I'm just not funny anymore.
More on the job opportunities later. No reason to report anything if nothing pans out.
Now it's time to brag. Stop reading now if you hate it when parents go on and on about how great their kids are. Really, it's pretty shameless.
The boys are doing great. Rowan's expressive language is now blossoming to the point where he is saying things like "Of course" and "actually." He rode a horse (with me) yesterday. We're actively seeking out good fit preschools for him (more on that later.) He's somehow gotten past the making friends and having trouble with social interaction roadblock. And it seems like now that he's got that figured out, he's really good at it. He is a super good friend, great at sharing and taking turns. He still flips out once in a while, but what 3 year old doesn't?
Aidan is amazing me as well. He's finally picked up the guitar, and hasn't put it down since. Just like the drums and piano, he just figures stuff out by watching a listening. We got this silly app on the ipad called Stack the States. He plays it for fun. The other day he named 48/50 states on a blank map. His reading ability is blowing me away.
I feel like the stage is set for a great summer ahead. There may be some changes ahead with jobs and schools, but for now I am reveling in this feeling of contentment and comfort. We all know how fleeting that feeling can be. I can't remember where it came from, but the quote "Live the life you love, Love the life you live" popped into my head out of nowhere today. Done and done.
Actually, there are two reasons why I haven't posted.
1. I always expect spring to be "easy." Every year I am wrong. Both Dan and I have had job interviews in the last 2 weeks, school craziness is wrapping up with all of its extra get togethers and whatnot, plus my toes are getting back into working at the Cafe. Where has all this time gone? (Oh, and I've been playing, as per previous post.)
2. I find my sense of humor and quick wit fires faster with adversity and stress, of which there is little around here. Really. We're busy, but not fried to the max like we were this winter. When life is "normal" I'm just not funny anymore.
More on the job opportunities later. No reason to report anything if nothing pans out.
Now it's time to brag. Stop reading now if you hate it when parents go on and on about how great their kids are. Really, it's pretty shameless.
The boys are doing great. Rowan's expressive language is now blossoming to the point where he is saying things like "Of course" and "actually." He rode a horse (with me) yesterday. We're actively seeking out good fit preschools for him (more on that later.) He's somehow gotten past the making friends and having trouble with social interaction roadblock. And it seems like now that he's got that figured out, he's really good at it. He is a super good friend, great at sharing and taking turns. He still flips out once in a while, but what 3 year old doesn't?
Aidan is amazing me as well. He's finally picked up the guitar, and hasn't put it down since. Just like the drums and piano, he just figures stuff out by watching a listening. We got this silly app on the ipad called Stack the States. He plays it for fun. The other day he named 48/50 states on a blank map. His reading ability is blowing me away.
I feel like the stage is set for a great summer ahead. There may be some changes ahead with jobs and schools, but for now I am reveling in this feeling of contentment and comfort. We all know how fleeting that feeling can be. I can't remember where it came from, but the quote "Live the life you love, Love the life you live" popped into my head out of nowhere today. Done and done.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Let the Revolution Begin
So, again, I am inspired by another Katrina Kenison book. This time it is Mitten Strings For God. It's basically a book she wrote when her kids were little, to help her be mindful to SLOW DOWN and simplify. The writing may be a bit flowery and idealistic, but I get it.
It's really no wonder there is this thing called Sensory Processing Disorder. And why it seems kids are getting less able to entertain themselves, and why parents seem more stressed. There is just SO MUCH being thrown at them, at us.
I can remember as a kid having the whole cul-de-sac neighborhood as free reign. We'd play kick the can, moonlight starlight and capture the flag until the 9:00 siren would go off, and then we knew it was time to go home. I'm not sure what my parents were doing, but they sure didn't seem worried. I don't remember having homework until 5th or 6th grade. (Aidan had homework in kindergarten.)
I feel overwhelmed by how much we are scheduled in doing stuff. In a story similar to one in Mitten Strings, by the time we got to Halloween this year, my kids had been in their costumes four times at four different events. And we had skipped two parties. I was relieved in December when our school decided not to have a Holiday music program this year: one less thing to do.
As I am reading this book, I am realizing that we as a culture are so focused on creating these amazing experiences for our kids, trying to keep them happy, that we are overlooking the real fun of simple, ordinary, everyday life. We seem to be teaching kids to keep expecting bigger and better, and not letting them just see what life will just bring to them.
While I've never rented a bouncy castle for a party, I am guilty of this as any other parent. We went WAY overboard at Christmas this year, and I regretted it. There are events, parties and other experiences I keep throwing at my kids that they don't need. But slowly, as I learn to listen to Rowan and recognize the signs of overload, I am learning to say no. Yep, we went to the birthday party today. The Aquarium was loud and busy and I spent 20 minutes of it in a quiet, abandoned meeting room. The old me would have pined away for the fact that Rowan wasn't playing with his friends. The new me saw that he and I were having a nice quiet moment together, and that he had found a pretty nice way to regroup so he could return to the party. (Which he did.)
I am starting a revolution.
First, it starts with assassinating the person who had the idea of putting candy bars by checkout counters.
Then, it moves on to building blanket forts.
Having cereal for dinner more often, so we can play outside together.
More cookie baking. There will definitely be more cookie baking.
No more t.v. shows with commercials. (Oh, wait, I did that already.)
Dance parties. Every Saturday. If we feel like it.
No more than 3 kids invited to birthday parties.
Less stuff at Christmas and more snowmen/ice skating.
I may also assassinate the really annoying sports parents. You know, the ones who yell at their 7 year old at t-ball games? Those people have to go. If my kid wants to build mountains in the dirt in outfield, or pick grass during a soccer game, he can.
Dora? Also on the assassination list.
Oh, and those people who took Bob the Builder and changed it from a cute show about working together into a show about being naughty and nasty? On the list.
Also, the people who destroyed Sesame Street.
Okay, maybe I'll stop assassinating people and just bring back Mr. Rogers.
And write a letter to all the people making kids shows and tell them to stop trying to teach my kids so much stuff. They get plenty of that at school, and from me. What ever happened to Wile E. Coyote falling off the cliff fifteen times, anyway?
Camping. More of that.
Important people/characters of the revolution: The kids next door, Skippyjon Jones, The Boxcar Children, Grover, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Pirates, The Laurie Berkner Band, The Barenaked Ladies kid's CD and our dog.
Oh, and I'd like to resolve that when friends stop by, they will frequently find me wearing a superhero cape, a pirate eye patch or acting like a cat/dog. Important part of the revolution.
Anyway, you get it. Basically, more of what I had as a child, and less of this pushy business.
Anyone care to join?
It's really no wonder there is this thing called Sensory Processing Disorder. And why it seems kids are getting less able to entertain themselves, and why parents seem more stressed. There is just SO MUCH being thrown at them, at us.
I can remember as a kid having the whole cul-de-sac neighborhood as free reign. We'd play kick the can, moonlight starlight and capture the flag until the 9:00 siren would go off, and then we knew it was time to go home. I'm not sure what my parents were doing, but they sure didn't seem worried. I don't remember having homework until 5th or 6th grade. (Aidan had homework in kindergarten.)
I feel overwhelmed by how much we are scheduled in doing stuff. In a story similar to one in Mitten Strings, by the time we got to Halloween this year, my kids had been in their costumes four times at four different events. And we had skipped two parties. I was relieved in December when our school decided not to have a Holiday music program this year: one less thing to do.
As I am reading this book, I am realizing that we as a culture are so focused on creating these amazing experiences for our kids, trying to keep them happy, that we are overlooking the real fun of simple, ordinary, everyday life. We seem to be teaching kids to keep expecting bigger and better, and not letting them just see what life will just bring to them.
While I've never rented a bouncy castle for a party, I am guilty of this as any other parent. We went WAY overboard at Christmas this year, and I regretted it. There are events, parties and other experiences I keep throwing at my kids that they don't need. But slowly, as I learn to listen to Rowan and recognize the signs of overload, I am learning to say no. Yep, we went to the birthday party today. The Aquarium was loud and busy and I spent 20 minutes of it in a quiet, abandoned meeting room. The old me would have pined away for the fact that Rowan wasn't playing with his friends. The new me saw that he and I were having a nice quiet moment together, and that he had found a pretty nice way to regroup so he could return to the party. (Which he did.)
I am starting a revolution.
First, it starts with assassinating the person who had the idea of putting candy bars by checkout counters.
Then, it moves on to building blanket forts.
Having cereal for dinner more often, so we can play outside together.
More cookie baking. There will definitely be more cookie baking.
No more t.v. shows with commercials. (Oh, wait, I did that already.)
Dance parties. Every Saturday. If we feel like it.
No more than 3 kids invited to birthday parties.
Less stuff at Christmas and more snowmen/ice skating.
I may also assassinate the really annoying sports parents. You know, the ones who yell at their 7 year old at t-ball games? Those people have to go. If my kid wants to build mountains in the dirt in outfield, or pick grass during a soccer game, he can.
Dora? Also on the assassination list.
Oh, and those people who took Bob the Builder and changed it from a cute show about working together into a show about being naughty and nasty? On the list.
Also, the people who destroyed Sesame Street.
Okay, maybe I'll stop assassinating people and just bring back Mr. Rogers.
And write a letter to all the people making kids shows and tell them to stop trying to teach my kids so much stuff. They get plenty of that at school, and from me. What ever happened to Wile E. Coyote falling off the cliff fifteen times, anyway?
Camping. More of that.
Important people/characters of the revolution: The kids next door, Skippyjon Jones, The Boxcar Children, Grover, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Pirates, The Laurie Berkner Band, The Barenaked Ladies kid's CD and our dog.
Oh, and I'd like to resolve that when friends stop by, they will frequently find me wearing a superhero cape, a pirate eye patch or acting like a cat/dog. Important part of the revolution.
Anyway, you get it. Basically, more of what I had as a child, and less of this pushy business.
Anyone care to join?
Friday, April 22, 2011
The Hackensack Bathroom Incident of 2011
This blog post is brought to you by Dyson, makers of the loudest *+%#$@ hand dryers in the world, which made my young son terrified of bathroom fans, and hence, terrified of most public bathrooms.
This wasn't much of an issue until we were potty trained. Now, well, it is.
My Mom, Rowan and I had a nice trip to Hackensack today. We had a little shopping to do, and decided to go out to lunch. We had perfect restaurant behavior out of Rowan, which was awesome. We tried to get Rowan to go potty at the restaurant, but he had no interest. (Fan....too scary.)
Next, we went to a secondhand store next to the restaurant. It was nicely equipped with two bathrooms, both with fans. You could tell he was starting to NEED to go. I didn't push it, and hoped our last stop would have a fan-less bathroom.
As we walked into the Hackensack co-op, a sign on the door greeted us: No public restroom available. Oh, this could be bad. Of course, we were not in the door 2 minutes, when Rowan informs me has has to go potty. I looked pleadingly at an employee standing nearby and she directed me toward an employee bathroom in the back.
The Hackensack Co-op is not very big. The bathroom, possibly the smallest in the world besides the one at our house, is situated in this back room in an area where employees, mostly older folks who are volunteering, are packaging food on nearby countertops. Besides being small, the bathroom had this weird step you had to go up, making the toilet look very much like a throne. Did I also mention that though the bathroom was in the back, it was very noticeable from one area of the store? These details are important later.
One flip of the light switch, and I knew I was screwed. Fan. Crap. I tried to convince him to cover his ears. No go. Lots of whining, starting to shriek. Am employee convinced me it was okay to leave to door open. I was not sure I wanted everyone in the store to see my kid's naked parts standing on this stage of a bathroom, but what choice did I have? I wedged the wastebasket into the door, which for some reason really ticked Rowan off. More shrieking. I removed the wastebasket and looked around for another tool to prop open the door. I kicked off my shoe and wedged it in. This seemed to make him happier, until he started shrieking "Take my jacket off!!!"
Did you know it's really hard to take a jacket off of a panicking 3 year old who will not take his fingers out of his ears? (And, no, the fan/light was not on, but he needed backup just in case I guess.)
One shoe off, lights off, loud panicked child, feeling like I am on stage, hmmm...what could we add here to make this more fun? Oh, I KNOW, the Well Meaning Stranger. Can I just say I hate these people? I know they want to help, but really, saying "It's better than having wet pants!" to my child in a cheery voice a dozen times is not helpful. (This was one of the employees just outside the door.) I have often wondered how I could make some happy little cards to hand to these people to shut them up. It could say "Overly Sensitive Child, do not engage in conversation please," or "This child has issues, please do not speak to him when he is upset." Plus maybe I could find some pocket copies of The Out of Sync Child to hand out to these folks. Knowledge is power, after all.
Flustered now, feeling like my body temp is about 250 degrees, face beet red, I yank Rowan's pants down (he is of no help with fingers in his ears) and try to lean him forward to pee standing up. More shrieking. He wants to sit down. Backwards. This means removal off all clothing from the waist down, including, for some reason, socks. ("It's better that having wet pants!" I hear sung through the door cheerily.) At this point, I prove that patience is not an endless well. I raise my voice, start ripping off Rowan's clothes, and even threw his boot at the wall. The employee sings her little mantra again.
Luckily, my superhero (my mom) sensed things were not going well. (I suspect at this point most people in the store sensed this as well.) Rowan at this point was seated a peeing, but she managed to calm us both down and put the situation back together.
Clothed, bladder emptied, mostly calmed down, Rowan and my mom and I processed out of the back room. "It's better than having wet pants!" my new friend chirped.
I barely remember saying it, but apparently I replied "At this point I am not so sure about that."
This wasn't much of an issue until we were potty trained. Now, well, it is.
My Mom, Rowan and I had a nice trip to Hackensack today. We had a little shopping to do, and decided to go out to lunch. We had perfect restaurant behavior out of Rowan, which was awesome. We tried to get Rowan to go potty at the restaurant, but he had no interest. (Fan....too scary.)
Next, we went to a secondhand store next to the restaurant. It was nicely equipped with two bathrooms, both with fans. You could tell he was starting to NEED to go. I didn't push it, and hoped our last stop would have a fan-less bathroom.
As we walked into the Hackensack co-op, a sign on the door greeted us: No public restroom available. Oh, this could be bad. Of course, we were not in the door 2 minutes, when Rowan informs me has has to go potty. I looked pleadingly at an employee standing nearby and she directed me toward an employee bathroom in the back.
The Hackensack Co-op is not very big. The bathroom, possibly the smallest in the world besides the one at our house, is situated in this back room in an area where employees, mostly older folks who are volunteering, are packaging food on nearby countertops. Besides being small, the bathroom had this weird step you had to go up, making the toilet look very much like a throne. Did I also mention that though the bathroom was in the back, it was very noticeable from one area of the store? These details are important later.
One flip of the light switch, and I knew I was screwed. Fan. Crap. I tried to convince him to cover his ears. No go. Lots of whining, starting to shriek. Am employee convinced me it was okay to leave to door open. I was not sure I wanted everyone in the store to see my kid's naked parts standing on this stage of a bathroom, but what choice did I have? I wedged the wastebasket into the door, which for some reason really ticked Rowan off. More shrieking. I removed the wastebasket and looked around for another tool to prop open the door. I kicked off my shoe and wedged it in. This seemed to make him happier, until he started shrieking "Take my jacket off!!!"
Did you know it's really hard to take a jacket off of a panicking 3 year old who will not take his fingers out of his ears? (And, no, the fan/light was not on, but he needed backup just in case I guess.)
One shoe off, lights off, loud panicked child, feeling like I am on stage, hmmm...what could we add here to make this more fun? Oh, I KNOW, the Well Meaning Stranger. Can I just say I hate these people? I know they want to help, but really, saying "It's better than having wet pants!" to my child in a cheery voice a dozen times is not helpful. (This was one of the employees just outside the door.) I have often wondered how I could make some happy little cards to hand to these people to shut them up. It could say "Overly Sensitive Child, do not engage in conversation please," or "This child has issues, please do not speak to him when he is upset." Plus maybe I could find some pocket copies of The Out of Sync Child to hand out to these folks. Knowledge is power, after all.
Flustered now, feeling like my body temp is about 250 degrees, face beet red, I yank Rowan's pants down (he is of no help with fingers in his ears) and try to lean him forward to pee standing up. More shrieking. He wants to sit down. Backwards. This means removal off all clothing from the waist down, including, for some reason, socks. ("It's better that having wet pants!" I hear sung through the door cheerily.) At this point, I prove that patience is not an endless well. I raise my voice, start ripping off Rowan's clothes, and even threw his boot at the wall. The employee sings her little mantra again.
Luckily, my superhero (my mom) sensed things were not going well. (I suspect at this point most people in the store sensed this as well.) Rowan at this point was seated a peeing, but she managed to calm us both down and put the situation back together.
Clothed, bladder emptied, mostly calmed down, Rowan and my mom and I processed out of the back room. "It's better than having wet pants!" my new friend chirped.
I barely remember saying it, but apparently I replied "At this point I am not so sure about that."
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